The Point of No Return
by Araceil
Summary: (Adopted from Monsters-Need-Love-Too) A faulty Portkey, a mangled leg, a dead classmate, a pair of wands, and a one way ticket to Isla Sorna. Today just isn't Harry Potter's day. Neither is tomorrow. Next week isn't looking too good either. Next month? How about next year? No? DAMN! (BAMF!Survivor!Harry, Slash, Timeline compliant.)
1. Prologue

**The Point of No Return**

_Adopted from 'Monsters-Need-Love-Too'._

**Old Summary: **He had needed to get away; that was the simple truth. Harry has found himself stranded on Isla Sorna. Now, after six years alone, he gets the chance to escape with Grant and the group. BAMF Harry.

_**000**_

Hello my duckies! So, I found Monsters' story last year and really liked it, stumbled upon it again a few days ago and saw it up for adoption. I figured why not? There will be a few changes. I have six whole years to play with on an island full of Dinosaurs. I shall play.Also, I want to make things more difficult for Harry, so I'm going to be sealing some of the abilities given to him.

**Basically, when I adopt a story, I rewrite it.**

The original was entirely Monsters' brain-child and it was great. I wouldn't dream of copying her though because it's her story, regardless of my adopting it. So this won't be like the original. HEAVILY inspired by the original, yes, and have the same things happening (for the most part), but still different.

;D I don't think Monsters would like to reread her own story.

Anyway, enough rambling on my part.

_**000**_

**Prologue**

He had never been one of those children who liked dinosaurs as a small child. That had been Dudley's shtick. He was the one who had all the toys, watched all the 'Walking with Dinosaurs' programmes, all the horror films that had the giant scaly beasts. Sometimes, when they were younger, he would force Harry to play games of make-believe where Dudley was a T-Rex who got to jump and 'eat' the weak puny human. Harry still had scars from the bite marks his cousin left behind.

The point was, Harry didn't know, or care, about dinosaurs.

At least back then he hadn't.

Right now, he would have given his left leg – actually no, he was currently using that to run away. And he needed both arms for climbing. Maybe an eye? He'd lost his glasses two days ago so his eyesight was pretty useless right now. Yeah. He'd trade his left eye for more information on dinosaurs. Or more particularly, how they live – so he could avoid making himself an easy meal for them.

"HAAAAAH!" Harry yelled in desperate horror as he _felt_ a puff of hot, rancid air against the back of his ankle, heard the sound of teeth snapping scant inches from him.

His lungs were burning. His legs felt like lead.

But in that instance, he didn't think his feet even touched the ground as adrenalin made the world narrow into a single tunnel in front of him. A tunnel that dropped away into a ravine and a low-hanging tree on the otherside.

He didn't stop.

He didn't slow.

He just jumped.

Bark tore at his fingertips as adrenalin borne strength had him clinging to the shuddering tree. He was already scrambling up and putting his back to the cliff edge, panting hard, gulping in air. His blurred vision watching the pacing creatures on the far side as they shrieked and barked angrily at him, thwarted. Because even though they may have been able to jump further than him, they couldn't climb, they didn't have the dexterity or the build. Plus, the cliff he had his back to was too high for them to jump up onto, they would fall short, and they damn well knew it.

His chest heaved. He coughed, hard, his lungs were ragged and on fire. It hurt to breathe as he tried to get his raging heart under control. He wasn't going to be moving from this tree for a while. His limbs were already coming down from the mad race there, they would be too weak, too rubbery to do much of anything beyond wait for the lactic acid to fade – Oliver Wood told him that when his body got like this, it was best to let it rest, stretch out if possible, but rest. Because if he pushed any harder, he may end up poisoning himself with his own bodily reactions – how that happened he didn't know, Oliver may have been full of shit on that front, but either way he didn't want to risk it.

He shifted weakly, shuddering and gasping on the tree-trunk, secure in the roots that clung stubbornly into the cliff face that he wasn't going to fall to his death and the tree wasn't going to drop to the river below. It was rooted in firmly. He watched with blurry vision as the beasts paced a little more, whickering in agitation and frustration before turning and padding off with liquid menace. Obviously reluctant to give up when a meal was right _there_, so close, but impossible to reach. His eyes scanned the foliage for movement. It was only after several minutes of only flies and leaves that he relaxed, bird song filling his ears once again. Even the croaking of tree frogs was audible now. The smaller, normal, wildlife always fell quiet when the predators were lurking around.

Slowly, with numb shaking fingers, Harry withdrew his precious spoils from the canvas backpack he had salvaged. A canteen bottle – empty, a thermal blanket – essential and possibly life saving as it got _very_ cold during the nights here, bandages – clean and lots of them, a good steel knife – Harry almost kissed the blade when he found it, and a cereal bar that was unceremoniously unwrapped and crammed into his mouth. He was about to let the wrapper drop, but good sense prevailed and he tucked it up into his pocket. Maybe he could use it for fishing bait or something, they were attracted to shiny things weren't they?

Sitting back against the cliff, he wrapped himself up in the blanket and idly licked the cereal bar's crumbs from his dirty fingertips. Tomorrow he would have to head to the river to get some fresh water. He was in the north, not far from the Aviary so while he could just drop down into the river, he really didn't want to. It was too dangerous. His best bet was to climb up and circle around to the plains through the redwood jungle – plenty of tall trees for him to scamper and camp in should...

He shuddered fearfully. No. He shouldn't wait until tomorrow.

As soon as he had stopped shaking, he would head off. He couldn't afford to stay here. They knew were he was. If hunting was too thin on the ground in the near-by area they would make the effort of circling around the ravine and crossing just to get at him. He was intelligent like them, that made him a threat. He was fast, which meant they had to be smart in order to catch him, because – as he had just proven – when the chips were down and they could _smell_ the brown streaks he was leaving in his boxers, he could ignore human limitations and beat a Velociraptor in a race. Something that, by all scientific accounts, should not have been possible.

And wasn't.

But when had he ever been normal? For short amounts of time, yes, he could out-pace a velociraptor. He was certainly more agile than they were as well, hence the only reason he was still alive after he _stupidly_ walked right into a nest at the small village down the river. He had been so close to those teeth. He shivered remembering the smell of rotting meat, the putrid reek of death, saw the yellow of those teeth, smelt the old blood that still stained and clung to scaled flesh. Those teeth had come so close. Harry could only be thankful those claws didn't bend the same way as a human's leg did, didn't have the same dexterity, otherwise he would have been in trouble.

It had been three weeks since he had landed in this godforsaken place.

Fourteen, busted leg, dead body in one hand, that fucking cup in the other – he threw it the second they hit the ground, threw it as hard as he could as far as he could. He didn't see where it went. Couldn't care either. He was in the middle of nowhere (It definitely wasn't the Forbidden Forest, too hot and it smelt), with a dead body and a mangled leg. He had to do some fast work on his leg because, well he didn't know if an Acromantula was venomous or not. So he had to do something silly. He used a Summoning Charm to draw out the venom.

He was just unlucky enough that there was venom in the bite. He went into a seizure as the magic did its work, drawing out the clear toxin and having it run down his leg, mixed with plasma and blood where it stained his socks and shoes. After that, Harry tortured himself further with a cleaning charm that left his flesh throbbing, hot, and screaming in agony. He tore fabric from his shirt, cleaned it, and then wrapped it around his leg in a rough bandage, casting several cooling charms on it to numb the pain from his leg wound.

After that... well, he had to deal with Cedric.

Cedric who was still lying there with his open eyes. Harry tried to move him but... he was as stiff as a board, as if someone had cast a Fullbody Bind at him. Cedric who wouldn't – stop – _staring_.

He still had nightmares. Those eyes. Watching him between the leaves.

Harry took his wand and then blasted a deep hole into the earth. He rolled the Hufflepuff into it and piled dirt on top of him. Levitating a rock to act as a headstone, he carved the seventeen year old's name and the date of his death into the stone '_A loyal more steadfast friend I have not had the pleasure of finding. May he rest in peace._'. It was the best he could do in this strange place. He had thought, at the time, that if his parents took issue with the crude burial, then he would bring them back so they could take the body home and do as they wished. But leaving him out to get nibbled on by woodland creatures, insects, and other scavengers wasn't very respectful. He knew from his science classes that Cedric would start to... to rot. And yeah.

Then he heard the breath of something big. Something behind him.

And he looked.

And he screamed.

And then he _ran_.

He didn't know _what_ the dinosaur chasing him was, he forced himself to suspend his disbelief over the fact that they were even _existing_ with the simple understanding that – magic, if the Dodo was still alive, who the fuck is to say dinosaurs didn't still exist _somewhere_ in the world? He couldn't think of any. But then, he was too busy running for his fucking life from a huge, ugly mother fucker with a long snout and a spined sail that decorated its back like the dorsal fin of a fish.

He burst out of the bushes and dove straight between the legs of an equally huge beast that he only peripherally recognised as Dudley's favourite – the tyrannosaurus/T-rex. He didn't stand around and wait to see if they would start fighting each other or just keep chasing him, he just fucking ran. He ran until his leg _refused_ to run any further. Until it crumpled beneath him and wouldn't move, jerking and spasming with blood gushing like a faucet from the Acromantula bite.

He dragged himself up a tree, shivering and deciding that if there could be a fucking T-rex kicking around with Fishy, then higher was safer. Who knew what other nasty beasties were living on ground level? At least in a tree, above tooth level of a rex he would be safe from things that liked to eat _meat_.

And that was how he spent his first night on the island. Up a tree, shivering in pain and cold and adrenalin, with a busted bleeding leg, trying to rationalise the appearance of dinosaurs – well, not really, he had accepted that, and was currently trying to think of every breed he knew in an effort of trying to remember which ones ate meat and which ones didn't.

He managed to survive. How, he had no fucking clue. Luck, fast running, and a surprising knowledge of just what was edible around him had hauled his ass away from death more times than he cared to count – not to mention that he knew how to swim _and_ how to climb. Something that not a lot of dinosaurs could do apparently.

Still, he never wanted to get on the badside of a tri-horn again. They had god _awful_ tempers. Worse than bloody Hungarian Horntails!

Then Harry found signs of human civilisation. Not just human though, muggle. Because there were phones. Dead. But _there_. And then he found the room. The room with the nests, the broken eggs, the babies in the tubes. And he realised that the muggles had made these creatures. They _were_ long dead, but they weren't anymore. Someone had brought them back using science. Why, he didn't know. Dinosaurs were dead for a reason, the world couldn't support their existence anymore.

For three weeks, Harry managed and he scavenged. He stole things from everywhere and he learned that two years before he arrived the place had been thriving, but _under control_. Muggles had been breeding dinosaurs on the island and then shipping them to another island which was being built as a theme-park, but then Hurricane Clarissa swept in and the muggles had to evacuate, but one of them released the dinosaurs into the wild before they left. No one expected them to survive. Something about their systems lacking some essential enzyme. Well, clearly they were wrong! The scaly bastards were fine, better than fine even!

Harry's leg healed. He had a glorious scar left over from the Acromantula bite and seemed to now be resistant to milk poisons, he had mistaken a few plants for something more benign and used them in a broth. Instead of food, he got poison that would have left him with food poisoning for two weeks spewing from both ends, he had an awful stomach ache for three days and was fine after that. After that, he became a lot more careful about what he picked up, testing with his nose, his fingers _and_ his eyes. The three together never led him wrong.

He began to lose all sense of time as his world narrowed to finding food and fresh water, finding safe places to sleep, avoiding predators and mixing medicines for his bumps and scrapes and gouges.

In a way, the Dursleys kind of raised him to survive this. Going long periods of time without food and still having to be active. Running, hiding, and climbing from predators. Hogwarts refined his danger sense, his ability to perceive danger and his reflexes in avoiding it by the skin of his teeth.

He survived.

Barely.

_**000**_

**Just the prologue. As said, this is adopted, but I do plan to play with it for a little before launching into the plot that Monsters' left for me. Harry will be a bit different, but that's mainly because he was somewhat younger than in her story – a necessity once I read up on the series. There are dates you know.**


	2. Chapter 1

**The Point of No Return**

_Adopted from 'Monsters-Need-Love-Too'._

_**000**_

**Chapter One**

_**000**_

_Timeline:_

**1992:** The events of the first Jurassic Park.  
**1993:** Hurricane Clarrissa hits Isla Sorna, all staff are forced to evacuate, Doctor Laura Sorkin (Game character) releases all the dinosaurs into the wild in order to give them a chance of survival. This includes three of the four unlisted breeding experiments, the Spinosaurus, the Troodons, and the aquatic Tylosaurus. The flying Pteranodon was deemed too dangerous to release into the wild and remained within the Aviary.  
**1994:** Harry crash lands on the island with Cedric's body. Takes his wand, buries the body, and begins his battle for survival.  
**1997:** The events of Jurassic Park 2. This happens during the Summer (as guessed by the scenes of San Diego). Events that took place on the island lasted... three to four days, I believe.  
**2001:** The events of Jurassic Park 3. This is a two day adventure.

_**000**_

He missed chocolate. Mars bars. Milky Ways. Chocolate Frogs. Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. He missed pumpkin juice and shepherds pie, he missed lamb with mint sauce and roast potatoes and vanilla icecream. He missed treacle tart and diet coke. He missed knives and forks and spoons and hot meals and chilled fruits. He missed soft beds and clean sheets. He missed clean clothes and shoes that fit. He missed Ron and Hermione, whose faces he had started to forget. He missed Professor Lupin and Sirius, whose faces he had forgotten. He missed Hogwarts. He even missed _Snape_.

He had been here a year.

How did he know it had been a year? The flowers. There was a bright purple bell-shaped flower that grew in patches here and there on the south-side of the island in the wetlands. They had been blooming when he first arrived – he learned they were pretty poisonous when eaten, but if mashed up with willow bark and those little red berries that grew next to the river they made some of the best damn painkilling salve he had ever had the good fortune of stumbling across. They bloomed for a long time before dying away into a thick dark bruise purple fruit that was quite tasty and edible, the stones were large flat and he discovered that by grinding them up and adding a little plant milk, they turned into quite a pleasant tasting paste that he noticed acted as a mild detoxification.

It had not been an easy year.

Harry had tried _everything_ he could think of in order to get any kind of attention. He tried summoning the Knight Bus when he stumbled across what was unmistakably a road (Fuck, he even found a port!). He cast spells here, there, and everywhere using both his own Wand and Cedric Diggory's – nothing. He never received a letter about improper use of magic, and he had used his wand every day so there was absolutely no chance that he had been casting without notice from the Trace on his wand, that only went dormant when he was in Hogwarts at certain times of the year. He even used the Unforgiveables.

Nothing.

Though he did learn that _Imperio_ worked on a lot of dinosaurs. The only ones it didn't... Were the ones that gave him the most trouble. The Velociraptors, the dinosaur with the huge fish-sail and long snout – he had a mind of pure rage and hunger, getting a grip and directing his mind to anything that _wasn't_ eating and defending territory was impossible. Those instincts were too deeply embedded. And the strange nocturnal raptor things that _spat_ venom, they were horrible, horrible things. Harry hated them almost as much as Raptors. They hunted at night, making reverberating shrieking and glutteral snarls that had all the hairs on his arms and legs stand straight as it vibrated off his eardrums. He had seen what the females did with their kills. He had no intention of ever being an incubator for the next generation of those monsters. They tore open the stomach, laid their eggs deep within the soft fleshy entrails and then used the body like a bed, brooding over their eggs, until they hatched, and the little 'darlings' _ate_ their way out of the rotting corpse.

Of all the dinosaurs, Sail-Fin was too aggressive to control, but White-eyes and raptors were just _too smart_. Like humans, they were frightfully intelligent. The difference being, Harry could, very likely, control a human using the _Imperio_, but the Raptors and the White-eyes were too dug into their instincts, like Sail-Fin, to turn their attention to something else. They would notice the strangeness of the spell immediately, _had_ noticed the strangeness immediately, and snapped out of it.

The raptors had been less than pleased. Unlike the White-eyes, they figured out who had done it. They had better problem solving skills than the White-eyes who were just smarter, they knew to avoid certain things. Harry would be thankful, forever and a day, that the dinosaurs had been wiped out in a meteor strike. He had no doubt that the raptors probably would have taken humanity's spot as top dog in the world if they hadn't. He also cursed InGen to the deepest pits of hell for being stupid enough to bring them back! For a company comprised of the smartest minds in the world, they didn't have a single iota of common-sense between the lot of them.

The question they should have asked was not: Can we do it? But: Should we do it?

Clearly no one had asked that question. Or if they had, it hadn't been heard, or was just ignored.

He got used to living in trees thanks to the Raptor's interference. They weren't _exceptionally_ persistent when it came to him, but they were definitely opportunistic enough that they were a pain in the neck on such a small island. It took Harry barely six days to go from one beach to the other, that was from north to south. East to West took ten days as he had to navigate his way around mountains and ravines.

He found InGen's breeding labs, the Aviary, Worker Village, a collection of maintenance buildings, generators, old machinery and such – and a Raptor's nest. It was only a small pack, six strong, Alpha female in charge, two brothers who were fairly bright and hunted well together, Alpha's mate, and another two females. There were also nests, but Harry had not taken a single step towards them when he stumbled across them. He turned heel and bolted. He knew what Raptor nests looked like.

There were about three Raptor packs on the island. The group of six in the Village, he named the Alpha female Steel after seeing her chewing enthusiastically on some of the machinery – he could only guess at why, maybe she liked the feeling of it, who knew? Maybe the cloning process scrambled something in her brain. Either way, she liked chewing metal. Steel's pack ruled the west side of the island. In the east, was Spade's pack. Spade was a large Alpha male, vivid red markings, and a curiously flat shaped head – Harry could only guess at that caused that but judging by the way his jaw was somewhat misaligned, he could only imagine that it was not a natural formation, the scientists would have 'euthanised' him if he came out of his egg with that kind of deformation. He had a smaller pack, but made up for it with being more aggressive. Primarily male, there was one female out of the four of them and she was rather docile and timid by comparison. If he had to compare the yellow marked female (he called her Daffodil), he would have said she reminded him a lot of Neville but spacier. He had seen her snap and chase after fireflies at night before getting snarled at by Spade and swiftly returning to the rest of the group. She was, however, the fastest of them and the highest jumper despite the fact she was the smallest. He had never seen Spade's pack make a breeding nest. Perhaps because Daffodil wasn't a good breeding mate, Harry didn't know, maybe she was too young still? It didn't matter. She was still just as likely to kill him as any of the other Raptors on the island, she would just do it in a way he hadn't anticipated. In the middle of the island was the largest Pack, ruled by a pale female Alpha Harry had named Pearl, _and_ a vividly red marked male called Spike. They were ten-strong. And approaching breeding age if InGen's notes were to be believed. There would be more of them soon.

He wondered how long it would take for them to either kill off all the life on the island, or how long it would take before the herbivores devoured all the plant-life and died of starvation. This island was in no way large enough to support the majority of the dinosaur life on it. He had vague memories of learning that the long-necks had eaten their way through the majority of the americas before they died out.

And without herbivores, they would leave just the carnivores to hunt and kill and eat one another. And eventually even they would die out because not even Raptors were prolific enough breeders to support their own numbers by eating their young. Not that they would. Like wolves, they were social creatures, they would abandon their young if they were sick or malformed, but eating them was not something they would even attempt. Unlike the T-rex who would quite cheerfully chow down on their hatchling if food was scarce. They could be maternal/paternal, but like Tigers, when the going got tough, the tough ate the closest source of food regardless of its origins.

There would, thankfully, be no more of the Sail-Fin's kind. It was the _only_ one of its species on the island, no chance of reproduction. And he doubted dinosaurs could perform a virgin birth. Changing genders, yeah, sure, he could deal with that – the notes from the Doctors in the labs were difficult to understand but he got the basic jist of fixing the broken DNA chains, filling in the gaps, with frog and toad DNA. But he also knew that frogs and toads could change gender. Trevor had done just that in their first year and given birth to a large clump of spawn in Neville's cauldron. Trevor became a Treviera, and Neville gave Ron the spawn.

He still went hungry more days than not, and his shoes became a lost cause several months ago – he had wrapped the remnants in dinosaur skin to hold them together but they were disintegrating fast. He would end up barefoot before long. He needed to figure out how to tan the leather hide, stop it from rotting around his very feet.

There was plenty to do aside from hunt and forage for food. Finding safe-trees was more difficult than you would anticipate, so was setting them up for sleeping or living in for a short amount of time. He had several that he preferred and moved to and from, he'd stashed supplies in each, salves and rough bandages, dried herbs and the like he could use to make more. Some had Water-skins. He changed locations fairly often so it didn't take him longer than a week to make a full round trip – the water would be mildly stale and taste like ass from being in the canteens, but still drinkable. And he always replaced them before moving on.

He was often very glad of this forethought.

_**000**_

He fucked up. He fucked up big and now he was suffering for it.

"_A-acc-accio ven-venom_," he gasped, directing his holly wand to the bleeding bite on his hip, panting and sweating profusely and then _screaming_, high, ragged, and full of pain as the spell forcefully drew the venom out against his blood-flow. However, he didn't know any medical spells, it wasn't something ever covered during Charms. He mentally made a vow to raise a stink about that if he ever got off the island. He felt the sticky liquid thicken as it hit open air and bubble up against his stomach, threatening to seep back in and infect the wound.

"_T-tergio_," he grunted, the spell siphoning off both the venom and the blood and dirt from the wound, revealing the neat tooth marks ripped into his flesh. God fucking damn White-eyes and their fucking serrated teeth and venom glands!

Shaking numb fingers reached for one of his wooden pots of salve and began to fumble with it. He had to get the salve on and some bandages, he learned the hard way that you could leave smaller wounds to the open air as long as you washed them often. The larger ones needed to be covered. At least until they scabbed over – the humid air provided a _perfect_ breeding ground for some truly awful bugs that he most certainly didn't want in a stomach wound, and definitely not in one that was likely to get infected anyway.

Trembling fingers spread the salve over the teeth marks, accidentally poking them a little too hard with clumsy movements. When they were covered, he managed to slap a few clean compresses over the wound before slowly, tortuously, managing to wrap it with bandages. He would have to boil and rinse them repeatedly and boil them again later.

Wound taken care of, he began to set up camp. A long strip of cloth was unrolled, he slung it between branches, casting sticking charms onto the wood and fabric, even going so far as to then use a bone-needle to poke a hole in the material and thread a chain through it, tie it to the branch, cast more sticking charms. Move to the other branch and stretch the whole thing out between them like a large flat hammock before repeating the process with the sticking charms and the chains. Once that was done, he cast hardening and impervious charms on the whole thing. He had gotten it down to a fine art these days, moving quickly and using both his wand and Cedric's – though he had come to no longer think of it as Cedric's, but his own. It didn't work as well for him as the holly wand, it fought him on a few spells, but on others worked just as well.

He could feel the fever beginning to set in and knew he would be there a while. He dragged out the roll of dinosaur hide he had managed to successfully tan a few weeks previously, it still stank to all heaven of piss, but that was something he couldn't change. Thankfully, T-rex piss would ward off a lot of the smaller dinosaurs, he was much too high to be in danger from Sail-Fin or any of the other large carnivores, and this tree was a good, thick one, it wouldn't be knocked down. He bundled up the middle of it into a knot, wrapped a cord over it and then tied it to a branch over head. He then cast just as many sticking charms onto it as the other segment, attaching the 'tarp' to the hammock.

He loosened the laces on his shoes so as not to cut off the circulation to his feet, wrapped himself up in his thermal blanket and settled in. Shivering and shaking.

It wasn't long before the hallucinations and the fevers and chills set in. The migraines and the pain and the delirium.

He had stuck down all the corners of his shelter, preventing him from getting out. He had cast hardening and impervious charms over every inch, so he couldn't tear himself out either. So he couldn't put himself in danger while under his own delusions.

He dreamt that he could hear helicopters. Hundreds of helicopters.

He sobbed and moaned in his fever dreams, fingers scraping against the protective dino-hide until all fell silent and he too dropped into an uneasy sleep. And awoke to the sound of explosions and bright bursts of light of gold light and screaming _human_ voices.

And he wailed and thrashed and kicked at the tent because there were _people_! Finally people on the island! People who could take him home! Take him away from this horrible, horrible place!

His voice cracked and failed and then the rain came and the chills set in as he listened to the sound of the water striking his protective tent – washing away the smell of ammonia. Washing away the deluded noise of something he could never have, would never see again. Depression set in and he could only sob, crying hoarsely into his backpack turned pillow, weakly claw at himself, dragging long bloody furrows into his head and face and wail at his loneliness, at the sheer _unfairness_ of it all.

What had he done?!

Why did this happen?!

Why him – WHY?! WHAT DID HE DO WRONG?!

HE WAS A GOOD BOY! HE DID EVERYTHING THEY ASKED HIM TO DO HE DIDN'T ASK QUESTIONS AND HE STAYED OUT OF THE WAY HE COOKED THE BACON AND HE DID THE DISHES HE DIDN'T DO BETTER THAN DUDLEY AND WHY WHY WHY DIDN'T THEY LOVE HIM?!

He screamed into the backpack and cried himself into uneasy sleep.

He woke up dehydrated and sore.

Greedily, he guzzled half the canteen of water before he censored himself, clear headed enough to remember he needed to save it. He was still feverish, still weak. But some distant part of his head was still chugging away, still _pushing_ him. Still demanding that he survive. He wouldn't falter, wouldn't fall, he would get through this. He would _survive!_

So he peeled away his bloody and soiled bandages. He peeled back the compresses, having to wet them with water so he wouldn't end up reopening the cuts. He cleaned them of plasma, pus, blood, and any other discharge. Staring at the weeping red swollen welts on his stomach. He covered his fingers with salve and squeezed each of the welts until the pus ran clear and then smeared them with more salve before padding and wrapping it back up. He felt a little better and curled back up to sleep, his dreams filled with pacing T-rexes and a little baby calling for his mother.

He woke up again and sipped slowly at his canteen, it was running close to empty but... his fever had broken.

He stayed in his tree-tent another day, drinking slowly out of the canteen until there was nothing left, eating at the fruits he had in his bag and chewing willow-bark and berry butter to take the pain and fill his stomach. It would also remove the last of the toxins from that bite. A bite which looked to be healing quite nicely as Harry popped each swelling to drain it of pus and reapply the salve and bandage up again.

His heart actually broke when he finally broke camp, packed up and moved on...

And found clear, obvious signs that there had been people on the island.

Boot-prints here. Bodies there. Broken trucks and discarded tents. Guns and radios that he didn't know how to work. Scavengers already tearing at cloth to get at flesh.

Harry got himself over sixteen pairs of boots. Good boots. Boots that he shrunk down and hid within his backpack. He found more medical kits which he plundered. He found backpacks with new clothes. A few paper-back novels which he greedily stole. Swiss army knives. Batteries. Flashlights. Proper tents. Pots and pans and food bars and – they had everything. Except a way off the island.

Harry scavenged the site pretty thoroughly, and decided to stick to the general area. It was actually a fairly clear one, away from game-trails, pretty far from the river but not too far. There was a small fresh water spring that wouldn't hydrate much more than a pack of Lizard-chickens, but was good enough for Harry's needs. There was also a good tree overlooking the camp.

He made his bed in there that night and he had never slept so well, or on such a full stomach, in a _long_ time.

_**000**_

Depression made survival difficult for the next few months.

He had been so _close_ to escape.

But had been to delirious. Too weak. Too unlucky. He had missed his chance. Still. Maybe there would be more? From the models he found at the camp, InGen were planning on making a theme-park, or a Zoo, using the dinosaurs on the island. Intending on shipping them to San Diego. Maybe they would even come back for their equipment. There was some pretty expensive things here.

Harry stuck around in that general area the whole time. His tree-tent became semi-permanent. His stomach completely healed from his run in with the White-eyes, it no longer hurt when he moved suddenly, or twisted in a certain way. Oh it hurt like a bitch at night in the cold, but thankfully Harry had learned how best to wrap himself in his thermal blanket – and the other sleeping bags he found within the camp.

Eventually, he upgraded his tent. He levitated one of the cages into the tree, casting a feather-light charm over it before several sticking charms. He then tied it into place and used the discarded tents to cover it, inside, he piled the sleeping bags and supplies from the trashed camp below. He also found several notebooks, journals, papers, pencils and pens.

On top of learning that it was now 1997 – he had been missing for three years, fuck, he was seventeen now, he could do magic without the Ministry's notice or care, not that they ever had since he arrived on the island – but he realised that... He couldn't remember anyone's faces.

He knew their basic characteristics. Hermione had bushy brown hair that went to her shoulder blades. And that Ron had short carrot red hair – and a long nose. That Neville was a little chubby and had a kind smile. Or that Snape had a hooked nose and a nasty sneer. Or that Dumbledore had twinkly blue eyes and a crooked nose and a beard long enough to tuck into his belt. But... the details...

He stared at the blank sheets of paper and nothing would come. And then he would throw them to the side and start to cry because... he had forgotten their faces.

Would he forget their names soon too?

So he didn't draw their faces.

Instead, he wrote their names. In different styles, with pictures. Hermione's had books, and parchments, and ink-bottles and quills. He wrote about how they met, how she loved studying and had a frightfully intelligent but arse-ugly cat, how she refused to abide slave labour and tried to free the house-elves at school. He wrote about meeting Ron, his family, his love of Quidditch and Chess and how they saved Hermione from a Troll. He wrote about Hagrid and his love of dangerous animals and how he probably would have loved this place – this place called Isla Sorna according to the papers he found in the camp. He wrote about everyone he knew and everything he remembered about them, so he couldn't forget them in this horrible, horrible place. This place where he had even forgotten where Cedric's grave was.

Eventually, he can out of food there. And had to move. It was better to keep moving on this island.

And it didn't look like there would be another group of people to try and collect their equipment. He had waited eight months already – now that he knew the year and the date of these people, he could make an educated guess as to the month.

No one was coming.

So he climbed out of his safety hut, he shrank it down, and he tucked it into his bag. And then he started walking, new boots crunching on the flint and slate beneath his feet as he walked across the dried out river bed and into the East.

It was spring. That meant the plains would be full of herds with young.

Easy meals.

_**000**_

**And that's chapter two done.**

**Yeah. Harry was delirious with fever and infection all throughout Jurassic Park II. They made such a loud mess of things that it was the only why I could think of that would keep Harry **_**out**_** of the chaos. Because Jurassic Park III is where it's at.**

_A warning for __**Fairy Tail Readers**__:_ I won't be updating on the twentieth of October. I'll give you a double update on the twenty-seventh, but the twentieth I'll be at a weekend long LARP event and completely out of internet contact. And too busy bashing people with spears to be bothered about it XDDD

**Lizard-chickens:** Compys  
**Sail-Fin:** Spinosaurus  
**White-eyes:** Troodons  
**Duck-bills:** Parasaurolophus


End file.
